


Cruel World

by finkykinky



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternative World, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Bite, Bottom Louis, Character Development, Fluff, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Love, M/M, Mating Bites, Omega Louis, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Harry, Romance, Serious Harry, Smut, Spoiled Louis, Spoiled Louis Tomlinson, Top Harry, Violence, alternative universe, larry - Freeform, possible trigger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkykinky/pseuds/finkykinky
Summary: In an alternate universe where beatings and strong words are the purest act of love, and kisses and caresses are considered abuse; Harry discovers the sweetness in the clean skin of an Omega who has never been loved, and who, knowing how things are, does not want to be.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is about an alternate universe, one where insults and abuse in general is the right way to love someone, while caresses and displays of affection that in the real world are considered healthy, here are abusive/toxic/harmful. A beating feels like a kiss; a kiss feels like death. Please do not try to relate this universe to the world today, it is quite the opposite, and Harry and Louis' behaviors may be considered wrong.
> 
> Try to be open-minded and empathetic to all the characters, it will be easier to understand them that way.
> 
> Please, if you don't feel comfortable with any of these contents or how things are going in the fic, take a break, change the chapter or just leave.
> 
> You can also find the novel on wattpad, at @filthykinky 's profile. The language there is Spanish, this is the english version and both are my work. I have worked so hard, so please do NOT take my work. Do NOT edit my work. Do NOT post my work. I have it available on wattpad and here so everyone can reads it, stealing is not neccesary.
> 
> If anything you want to know, please ask me.

###  Prologue. 

The first sign of affection Harry sees is when he's four years old. 

It's a cold day when the Christmas season is terribly close, and the sun is slowly lowering over the horizon as on any other day in any life. Harry is sitting on the grass in the back garden, with his head down and his little green eyes focused on this tiny, tiny caterpillar that slithers through the grass, with this haunting purple color that makes the little one just can't take his eyes off it. He feels hypnotized despite not even knowing what that word means, and yet he is forced to look away at the exact moment his mother screams.

His pale skin is enveloped in the chill of that sound, and he leaves the fascinating caterpillar aside to go look inside his house. He stands up with the help of his little hands and walks silently into his home.

The small space in the room is empty, and with his bare feet he walks towards the kitchen, holding on to the walls because in the end he is still too clumsy, because he is still not very good at this. So he grabs hold of the walls and keeps his eyes on the floor to avoid tripping over his own little feet, and he comes to the corner, and slowly and innocently looks over the edge of the cornice, only to find his father clenching his fingers around his mother's neck.

There's a bright smile on his painted lips, while his face takes on that vermilion color that Harry doesn't like one bit.

The little boy bites the corner of his mouth and goes back to the garden without even understanding what's going on with his parents at that moment, or why his mother has looked so pleased with those hands on her neck, and he doesn't even care at all, because Harry has never been too curious about people in general, because he actually prefers the way the earth feels on his tiny feet, about how flowers open up when it's spring, or about how the air moves his hair in a different direction sometimes, and especially about the smell of people.

This is what attracts her most attention, because she finds it interesting how her mother smells different from her father, who always gives off that lemon essence through his pores every time he is around, while she usually smells of very, very hot, delicious chocolate. And Harry always likes it, both of them.

He sits on the grass again, and a sad pout forms on his lips when he sees that the caterpillar is no longer in place, and that the wind is no longer everywhere, that the sun is already setting and that everything has fallen into a grave-like silence. Harry breathes, takes the corner of the collar of the sweater he is wearing and inhales deeply, until his little lungs can no longer inhale his mother's scent, and he knows that it belongs to her because he has seen her impregnate her clothes with that scent before putting them on and telling him how beautiful he looks in those moments.

• • •

The second show of affection Harry sees when he's six.

He's sitting in front of the Christmas tree and he's wearing a red sweater that says "good boy" in green embroidery identical to the color of the tree, and his hair is terribly messy because he's been scratching it for a long time. His mother has told him that he has lice, and that he shouldn't put his hands on it, and Harry has really put all his effort into not doing it, even though it really itches.

It's already dark by then, the lights on the tree are flashing fast, and from them comes some nice Christmas music that the little boy likes. He is quiet, meek even when he suddenly hears his father cursing very loudly. He looks at the place where those words come from and gets up from the floor with his bare feet just to go into the room.

The melody of the tree diminishes as he walks down the corridor of the house and into his parents' open room. He places himself in the frame without making much noise, focusing on how his mother scratches her alpha's back, hard, to the point where it makes him bleed a little, and there is a splendid smile on his lips that Harry simply watches as he avoids wondering why his father is hiding in his neck. The boy tilts his head, the slightly long curls fall to his sides and the omega notices his presence, and his smile is reduced just a little, and the little alpha doesn't seem at all interested in smiling back.

He turns on his heels and goes back to the living room, to the Christmas tree, to the musical lights and to the sweet smell of his sweater.

And then he finds himself getting curious, thinking.

Why is his father bleeding and his mother smiling?

Why does she have unusual and ugly skin colors and why does her dad always seem to have new scratches in different places?

He silently asks himself why sometimes they have broken lips and scream so much.

And he thinks about it, and realizes that his neighbors also have marks, and unattractive colors, and that some of them sometimes scream very loudly and seem to be unkind to each other, but very nice to everyone else. 

Harry sits down on the floor once more, and is silent but has only one answer to any of his questions as the lights illuminate his face and the melody continues. 

• • • 

When Harry turns eleven, he finally deigns to sit with his mother on the living room furniture, just before his math class begins, and asks her:

“Mom, why does your skin look like that and mine doesn't?“ The innocence of uncertainty dances in his tone of voice as he speaks. 

The omega smiles softly before looking at him for a second before returning to the pages in front of him.

“What do you mean by that, my love?”

Harry nods his head while frowning a little and makes a brief uncomfortable sound with his throat when she's not paying attention to him, because she's busy marking in the textbook the lessons he's going to give her that day. Harry doesn't go to school or anything, but learns everything he needs to know with her at home.

Honestly, the little alpha couldn't care less about those lessons at that moment.

“Your skin, Mom” Insist. “It's purple, it's green, it's red, pink, sometimes gray. Why?

“Ah” The omega smiles almost smiling. “Because your father loves me.”

“What?” He looks at her in confusion. “I don't think I understand, Mom.”

Anne looks at him this time and adjusts the collar of the shirt he's wearing, fixes the curly locks that hang down from his forehead and leaves a soft kiss on his skin. A slight grimace of displeasure is drawn on her face almost instantly, and Harry notices, but does not understand. 

“It's very simple, honey, when Daddy wants to let me know that he loves me, he hits me hard and makes these marks. That's how we show love, that's how everybody shows it.”

“But I don't... I don't have marks... “ Harry reasons, even though he still doesn't understand too well, and he feels hurt more than anything. He looks at his clean, colourless arms, and drags his gaze back to his mother. “Don't you love me? Daddy doesn't love me?”

Anne closes her eyes for a single second before humming, pensive.

“We love you, very much, but-“ She pauses briefly to pass her tongue over her lips. “When you were born, I asked your father to do me a favor.”

“What favor?” He interrupts her, anxious, not knowing that she could have continued immediately. 

She laughs softly at him and strokes his hair again.

“Little impatient. I asked him not to make marks on you, not to show you any affection, that I would do it for both of you.” 

“But you don't leave marks on me, Mom. I still don't understand.”

“It's complicated, my sweet alpha. When you grow up a little more, I'll explain it to you.”

“No, Mom. I want to know now. Why don't you mark me? Why don't you show me you love me like Dad does you? “

The omega sighs. Harry wrinkles his nose a little when he smells the discomfort she's starting to give off, and it can get overwhelming. It takes Anne a few good seconds to finally talk. 

“I'll tell you a secret, but you must keep it in your heart forever, yes?” Harry nods ephemerally, swearing to himself to keep those words. Anne leans over him to her ear and confesses: "I don't like these marks and I don't want you to have them, or to give them to someone you love when you grow up, because love doesn't hurt, my little alpha, love doesn't.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry is already twenty years old in the ribs, living alone in a small apartment that far from being a small apartment looks more like a studio where he can barely walk. He finds it quite comfortable, and honestly loves it, because it is his and he does what he wants in it without any problem.

It's a morning like any other, where he has the opportunity to wake up a little later than usual because he finally has the day off from work. He shuffles around a bit between the warm sheets and sighs. He has dreamt of his mother again, the same image of her confessing things to him that he could not understand until it was his turn to live them.

He still remembers, his first partner. He had him when he was seventeen, and he was such a beautiful and delicate Omega that Harry could swear he looked like a porcelain doll, made of pure glass that with the slightest touch could break. Harry liked him very much, he loved him, but he didn't like the way he behaved because him always asked him to hit him, to call him names, to wrap his hands around his neck until it took his breath away or left bruises on his skin. 

The Alpha never liked to do any of that, and somehow, they always ended up having problems because the Omega claimed that he didn't love him as much as he said, that his words were just empty mentions.

Hearing him say that broke Harry's heart a little more each day and he didn't know what to do.

Harry has learned from his mother that real love is sweet and tender, and every time he tried to kiss that boy, he would cry and ask him to stop, whispering in his sleep that he was hurting him. Harry was always confused, uncomfortable with him, he did not understand why he suffered so much when he told him how beautiful he looked that day, when he tried to give him little caresses and kisses on the shoulder, when he told him he loved him and was not accompanied by a beating.

He had to finish with him, barely, with the pain of his soul, and he sincerely thought that it was a good thing that he did not bite him because things would have been worse.

Now Harry is alone, with no partner or anyone waiting, and he constantly thinks that it is better to be like that than to be in bad company, because he cannot bear the idea of treating someone, he loves the way he is supposed to. He hasn't been brought up that way, his mother never tinted his skin with pain, never called him names, so Harry wasn't going to use something he hadn't been taught to use on others.

And he's proud, he doesn't regret what he's learned.

He stirs himself up a little more in bed before pulling his legs out from between the sheets, stretches with a tiny groan stuck in his throat, and so monotonously stands up. He walks to the bathroom, where he takes about fifteen minutes because he takes his usual shower where he squeezes his skin and washes every corner of his body. He finishes eventually, and by this time he is not even surprised to have forgotten his towel in the room because it has become something of a bad habit of his father's.

He has no choice but to go out naked, with drops of water everywhere that end up falling to the floor, he doesn't mind drying them afterwards and goes to the small cupboard where he keeps his bath items. He throws his hair back, scratches part of his pelvis and gets something to dry it with, takes care of his hair first while he goes to close the window because it is already cold and the London sun is so warm that he doesn't even feel it. 

He sniffs a bit through the glass, sees his neighbour Daphne coming out in a hurry because she is probably late and watches as the man on the corner, the one who is blind, holds the same pitiful sign as every day and people leave him money, and suddenly he hears someone shouting from upstairs. He closes his eyes and shudders a little, hears a new scream and then a satisfying laugh, which makes Harry grimace and he walks away from the window having had enough.

He sighs, so much of the same, every day like this.

He looks for clothes that are warm enough for a walk, maybe he bumps into Niall or Liam on the way, especially Liam who is always out jogging at that time of the morning to keep up his physique. Harry likes to do it with him from time to time, but lately he's been so tired that he couldn't even run to the corner and it's sad, although in the end it doesn't bother him so much. 

He dresses quietly and ties his curly, scrambled hair in a little bow, some too short locks slip out and he looks at himself in the mirror thinking that he should get a quick cut. His mind automatically tells him that he has no time, although when he thinks about it, he realizes that he has plenty of time, especially that morning. However, he is not really interested in cutting today, so he simply puts on his feet and leaves the room.

He takes his keys, the phone, a scarf that hangs on the coat rack by the entrance and his wallet, and he goes out the door bending over a bit as he crosses because it's not tall enough for him.

“Good morning, Harry.” Says Ed, the third floor neighbour, as soon as he see him. Harry smiles softly at him almost unwillingly. 

Ed is a rather curious beta with orange hair and big vocal cords, and Harry listens every day to him hit his wife and to her laugh at it, although lately they have been rather quiet now that they have had a baby.

“Morning, Ed. Say hi to your family, see you.”

And presto, that's what Harry's few morning conversations are based on. Usually they don't go any further than that and he's fine with that, after all he doesn't like to relate to others very much because that involves getting attached to them, and he's not ready to show affection to anyone else.

He's not ready to love anyone, because the idea of doing so is horrifying.

He goes down the stairs without delay, the cold air hits his face as soon as he leaves the building, he immediately feels his nose getting congested, and he walks in silence. People pass by him, cars alike, many talk and others are like him of silent, at some point he looks up briefly to watch the sky become cloudy and it is likely to rain, because it always rains. 

He has forgotten his umbrella. 

He is not so worried about it.

He is about to look back at the road when suddenly his body hits someone shorter, thinner, and more defenseless than himself, and he doesn't even have a chance to keep it from crashing into his anatomy, but at least he holds it in his arms to keep it from falling. Someone dodges them and the alpha wants to sneeze, but he doesn't, and he takes a deep breath to calm his desire, suddenly his nostrils fill up with a peculiar, delicious smell, and he gently squeezes the forearms of the person he is still holding, he breathes again.  
It smells very good.

He doesn't know what it is, but he likes it.

The person clears his throat, Harry reacts immediately and steps aside. He sees it, and realizes that it's an omega, and his face is too red to be cold, and he's small, tiny by comparison, and his hair is disheveled, over his face.

“I'm sorry," mutters softly the omega. He looks up at him, Harry notices that his eyes are very red and blue. The alpha tilts his head and remains silent. “I was... I'm looking for an address and I didn't see you...“ Continue the boy. “I'm sorry.”

Harry nods, slowly breathing in the good smell that comes from it, which gets a little more intense every second. The boy smiles at him with his lips almost tight and goes back on his way, Harry is also about to take his until the touch on his shoulder stops him from any step he has wanted to take. He turns around, finally sneezes, covering his mouth and nose with the curve of his arm.

“Cheers. I'm sorry. I was wondering if you could help me get where I need to go.”

Harry looks at him, slyly wipes his hands with his pants and nods, has no problem helping him, he likes to do it. He shakes his head again in a statement, the omega smiles in the same way and holds out a piece of written paper, the handwriting is not too good, actually Harry can hardly distinguish consonants, but maybe with some effort he manages to understand it and ends up pursing his lips a bit.

He places the place in his head, and thinks it's a little far from where they are now. He averts his eyes from the paper and looks at all the signs for a route to show him. The omega looks at him carefully, perhaps wanting to decipher what he seems to be looking for or observing so much. But he doesn't seem to understand, and it doesn't matter anyway because Harry has not managed to find a good path for him, a shorter one.

So, he shrinks from being a man, and thinks he has time, that he can take him there and stop at some café for breakfast, even though he's not so hungry now. He knows he'll get it soon anyway.

“Do you know where it is?” suddenly asks the omega, almost impatient when Harry says absolutely nothing. The alpha nods, the boy nods. He asks again with a hand gesture. “Will you tell me where it is?”

“No. I'll take you.”

And Harry thinks he must have cleared his throat because his voice came out too low and that makes the omega shrink a bit instead.

The alpha thinks he’s nice, but only aesthetically.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry walks quietly and at a normal pace while a certain omega with still too red cheeks and incredibly blue eyes follows him around. The cold winter breeze gives them a caress and Harry shrinks into his coat when it affects him enough to give him goose bumps. He hears an uncomfortable humming coming from the boy walking beside him, and the alpha can't help but look out of the corner of his eye, only to find him with his shoulders hunched and his arms around his own body in an attempt to pitifully cover himself from the cold. 

He's not covered enough for the weather, and Harry's eyebrows are furrowed at that.

“Don't you have another coat?” He gently reaches in, watching as he rubs the palms of the fabric of his upper garment in an attempt to warm himself. “That one you're wearing seems to be too thin.”

The omega is surprised when Harry speaks, and realizes that because he witnesses the way his eyes tighten and exalt in impression. It turns out to be a bit funny, because he acts like he's never had an alpha before, and his cheeks are so red that by now Harry doesn't know if it's the cold or some growing embarrassment. 

The boy shakes his head in denial and shakes his hand slightly, as if he were trying to play down the matter.

“No, I have no other," he answers, shrugging his shoulders. “But it doesn't matter. I'm not that cold anyway.”

And it's a lie, and Harry knows it because a new suction stream hits them, and the omega shakes and quivers because he certainly can't stand it. And Harry just sighs softly and stops in the middle of it. 

Someone complains behind his back and crosses over to the side to continue on his way, the omega also stops and looks at him with a confused look painted on his face, not understanding why he has suddenly stopped walking. Harry licks his lips and begins to take off his warm, heavy wool coat, good enough to give him the comfort and warmth he needs. 

He fixes his hair when he thinks his hair has become disheveled as he passes the garment over his head and stays in his long-sleeved, thick fabric T-shirt. He breathes, stretches it out to the omega and he looks so surprised by that gesture that his eyes open wide and he even chokes on his own saliva. 

“No, no, no. Put it on, you're going to freeze," Louis says the chestnut tree in an affected murmur, his voice irritated by the cough. He wrinkles his eyebrows suddenly. “What's he doing, for God's sake?”

“Take it” Harry insists. He thinks the expression the blue-eyed Omega has adopted is really funny, but he doesn't laugh. “You can catch a cold, and I'm already a little congested, so here. Put it on.”

He doesn't give him the time to complain one more time, because Harry keeps running it over his head without permission and being careful not to hit him. He adjusts it so that it covers him well, and without even looking at it he starts to walk, leaving him a little behind now. He doesn't turn around to make sure he's being followed, and thanks quietly when the omega comes trotting towards him to stand next to him and keep walking.

Harry nods to himself when he no longer sees him shaking, and keeps his own hands in his trouser pockets, because it is he who is shaking now.  
It's no big deal; he says to himself.

He's used to the cold, there's no heat in his apartment all the time, so in these kinds of times he survives on sweaters, socks and more bedspreads than he should have. 

They keep walking silently, turning a corner and Harry suddenly sneezes, breathing through his mouth right after.

“Bless you” The boy wishes him well. He clears his throat. “I'm Louis, by the way. Thank you so much for joining me.”

“It's nothing.”

And that's enough for Harry.

He thinks there's no need to tell the pretty omega his name, because he's probably not going to see him again, because he probably has marks on the body of some previous boyfriend because at least for him it's obvious that he doesn't have anyone at the moment. Anyway, it's not something that concerns Harry, but in a way, when he looks at it sideways, he can't help but feel relieved that he doesn't see any bruises on his skin. He feels relieved when he knows he doesn't have a black eye or any other wound somewhere on his handsome face.

Bruising that pretty face is a crime, Harry thinks it is, but he says nothing about it and just keeps walking along with Louis in silence.

“Are we nearly there yet?” asks the omega.

Harry tilts his head, turns another corner, to the left.

He denies.

Louis speaks again.

“You're not going to tell me your name?” Mumbles softly.

Harry relays his lower lip.

“I'm Harry.”

“Harry what?”

“Styles.”

“Harry Styles.” Repeat Louis.

The alpha nods and sneezes again. Twice this time, and he feels annoyed because he's congested, and he has to keep his lips half open because otherwise he won't be able to breathe.

Louis says bless you again and keeps quiet for a moment.

“Let's go across the street.” Harry tells him and holds out his hand. Louis looks at him in confusion. “The traffic light's out, so you have to hold me down so you don't get hit. Some drivers on this corner are pretty reckless.”

Louis looks in the direction of the street, and frowned when there was not a single car crossing. He snorts slightly, Harry sees him roll his eyes, shrug in his wool coat and give his legs free rein to cross to the next sidewalk, as if what the alpha just said was nothing more than a ridiculously false warning. However, Louis immediately regrets it when a car appears out of nowhere, blows its horn so loudly that it resounds in his ears and is probably about to cross over him.

He squeals, and closes his eyes accepting his death too soon. Yet he gasps loudly when Harry pulls him by the collar of his sweater, pulling him completely off the street and away from the curb; it has saved his life. And Louis doesn't even have time to react, because in the next second his head is resting against the chest of that curly alpha, and he doesn't pay the slightest attention to it because he is sort of paralyzed by the fact that he almost died, literally a second ago.

Harry sighs, steps away from Louis until he feels he is calmer now, and takes his place beside him. He holds his hand firmly, and doesn't look at him when he speaks.

“Please don't do that again” He asks him. 

And he thinks that's enough to teach Louis a lesson. They both cross the street at speed, being careful that no crazy person comes behind the wheel to carpet them on the asphalt. They manage to get to the other side, Harry feels Louis breathe, and lets go almost immediately to keep walking. It's only a matter of seconds before he stops in front of the place Louis has been looking for.

It's a house, a pretty big one, and for a moment Harry thinks that even if he worked hard and was the most optimistic person in the whole world, he wouldn't get to have a home like this.

“You've arrived” He communicates, looking at the place.

Suddenly he is curious to know what the blue-eyed man is looking for there, but he doesn't ask any questions about it because he knows it's none of his business, and if you let him be honest, Harry has this policy of relating to as few people as possible, because that way he avoids them getting attached, and having to show affection that he knows he doesn't want, because it hurts him, too much. 

So, he just bows his head in a farewell. 

“Thank you for helping me, Harry! I hope I see you again" exclaims Louis, loud enough for Harry to hear because he has already started walking.

Harry turns his face to look at him, and smiles gently at him, without showing his teeth, and follows his path to where he was supposed to go before, he met Louis. And he really hopes he never sees the omega again.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry has sneezed about five times since arriving at the cafeteria where he works. He still remembers that he has the day off, but he knows very well the prices of the place and how the food it serves tastes, so he has decided not to venture into anything new and special and has gone for sure. Not to mention that he can definitely pay for breakfast there.

It's not that Harry is low income or that he is paid a pittance, or anything like that. He's actually doing pretty well, it's just that he prefers to save his income for things that seem more important to him, like renting his apartment, bills, grocery bills, and paying for the nursing home his father is in, among other things.

He lets out a sigh and tilts his head a little when Lizzy, the girl who is replacing him that day, greets him with a hand gesture. Harry has always thought that she has a nice smile and is quite an attractive omega, and her tone of voice with the people she serves always sounds like some kind of lullaby she doesn't mind hearing. 

There's a long line in front of the counter where she's waiting, so, from her own experience and knowing that it's going to take a while, Harry decides to take one of the small tables for two people near the window. He doesn't want to take up much space, and he's really not affected by the empty seat in front of him, so he just sits and watches through the glass as life in the city goes on. 

It's all very simple outside if you look closely, and people act so normally that they look like robots. Harry finds the comparison funny and without realizing it, he smiles a bit to himself, however, any trace of joy is gone like smoke when a small bruised omega passes in front of his eyes, holding the hand of an alpha who holds her head up and a worrying scratch on her cheek.

Harry has to blink several times to differentiate the colors on the boy's skin, so green, so purple, red, almost black, on his arms, somewhere on his neck on his cheek near his chin; everywhere. And he cannot see it; he is unable to continue to look because something in his chest gets tangled and presses him with pain, almost agony. And before he looks away, the boy looks at him, and he has these beautiful blue eyes that vaguely remind him of something.

He puts his head down on the table in his hands and turns his face toward the order bar. The line has gone down and now there are only two people waiting to order. He soon stands up, breathes more deeply than his lungs can handle, and ends up coughing softly. He tries to hide his cold hands somewhere in his upper garment, but realizes he no longer has his sweater.

He clicks his tongue when he remembers that he has left it to that Omega, to that Louis whom he has helped and who has the same red and broken eyes as the boy he has seen through the window. He sighs, he can't do anything about it anymore and clears his throat when he is stung.

He doesn't want to think about anything else, not about Louis, not about his skin that is so clean, totally different from that of apparently everyone else, not about his smile and how aesthetically beautiful he looks with the red orbs and that wide sweater that Harry will probably never see again because he doesn't plan on meeting the omega anymore.

He falls into voluntary resignation, of course, because he has no other choice and is sure he can afford another coat like that, perhaps even warmer. Yes, that's just what he'll do as soon as he's done with his chores for the day, and he makes a mental note of it as he takes a few steps toward the line. It is soon his turn, and Lizzy looks at him with a mocking smile on her lips before speaking to him.

“You must really like this job to come in on your day off," she says gracefully.

Harry likes the way she talks, because she has this not at all London accent that goes quite well with her tone of voice, and hair so short that, if he didn't have the face of a doll, he could easily pass herself off as a boy without too much difficulty. However, and the problem with Lizzy, is that she has a boyfriend, a beta that Harry met only once and that he doesn't even remember his name, but that apparently makes her very happy, and Harry knows that because it shows, as well as the frequent affection that they must give each other.

Lizzy is full of bruises almost all the time, and today she has this one on her shoulder that the alpha can't miss because of the kind of shirt she's wearing. Harry does everything he can to keep his eyes off her broken skin and looks up at the menu on the big screen at an angle away from their heads.

He finds so frightening the way those colors pile up in her, and he thinks of his mother, of what she once told him, of what she taught him.

“I did not feel like preparing anything this morning”. He answers her without giving too many details, because in spite of everything they are not too close friends and only talk from time to time.

“What will you want then?”

Harry hums thinking and is about to answer when he suddenly sneezes, and he is sick of his congestion, of the damn winter cold and of basically being in a world like that.

“Bless you," Lizzy says, 

Harry nods.

“Thank you. I will have a vanilla cappuccino and a, I don't know, a ham and cheese croissant.”

The girl shakes her head in affirmation and writes down the order on the touch screen. She gives him the price for the food and Harry doesn't hesitate to take out his wallet and pay. He realizes that he has run out of cash, so he will have to go through an ATM on his way back to his apartment.

He sighs quietly, and Lizzy delivers his meal in a flash. 

“Have a nice meal. See you, Harry.”

“Thank you. Thank you. “

And that's it.

He's going to sit at a different table, one that's far from the window because he knows he won't be able to enjoy his breakfast if he sees every person passing by in a deteriorated state. He finds one, and in silence and pure solitude, he drinks his cappuccino. He burns his tongue unintentionally, but somehow feels relieved when the heat passes through his chest and allows him to breathe.

He takes his time in this, is not in any hurry because nobody expects him and is more than well with it.

The croissant is delicious, his stomach thanks him so much that he doesn't regret paying with the last cash bill he had left.

At some point he finishes his breakfast, and he may spend a few minutes too long sitting in the cafeteria doing absolutely nothing.

Harry certainly doesn't have an exciting life, and that doesn't bother him because he likes the simplicity of his day-to-day life. Sometimes he thinks everything would be a little better if he were with someone, but he knows how everyone thinks, and he prefers not to be loved, much less loved. Not in that way.

When he has had enough, he stands up, picks up the trash for disposal, goes to the door and says goodbye to Lizzy with a nod. The cold air hits her face as soon as he leaves the room, and he suddenly sneezes.

“Christ” He complains quietly before he starts walking.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry returns home with a couple of grocery bags clustered in one hand while the other holds a small bag from a second-hand clothing store he has been through before returning to his apartment. He has bought a sweater, one identical to the one he left for the blue-eyed Omega, Louis. However, there is a chance that this one is a little bigger, and slightly thicker, because he thinks he should wrap it up now that he knows that the sneezing was not caused by congestion, but by a cold.

He climbs the stairs of the building without much fuss and in silence, and finds his neighbor, Ed, struggling with the lock on the door.

“Hello, Ed” He greets with a certain kindness, because he has never embraced the feeling that being rude or careless with others causes him. “Problems again?”

Ed looks at him and smiles softly, almost relieved to see him, and giggles without much grace.

“Hello, Harry." He says hello again, with a sigh in between. “Yes, something like that. This thing is getting worse every day, I've told my wife to change the lock, but you know, now that we have the baby she wants to spend everything on him.”

Ed laughs quietly, and Harry notices that he can't handle it anymore, so he comes over.

“Let me help.”

Ed seems delighted with the offer and Harry quickly places the key through the slot and turns it. He gives him a little push and that's it, the door opens and Ed thanks him about six times before he goes into his own house and lets Harry get on with it. 

It's been pretty easy, and the Alpha doesn't have any problems with the lock on his own apartment or anything like that, so he goes into his cold little space and takes off his shoes almost immediately.

His bare feet touch the frozen floor and he regrets it for a moment, although in the end he does nothing to cover himself up because he has never really liked walking around inside with shoes, because he knows that germs from outside can get in through them and he has no carpet outside to clean himself. 

Yes, Harry is hygienic in some ways and very careless in others.

He walks to the kitchen, which literally takes him three steps, and leaves the bags on the small breakfast table. He decides to take his new sweater into the room to put it away and everything is so quiet that Harry finds it sad, but ignores it because he knows that it doesn't help him to get nostalgic for something he's never had.

So he goes back to the kitchen, puts on some music and prepares dinner. It doesn't take long, it's just a sandwich with too many ingredients and some juice, he sits down on the only chair he has in the small dining room and hums as he eats. 

Anyone who looks at him in that situation would think he is just a poor, lonely wretch, who doesn't know the pleasures of life in company and who hasn't yet learned to love, but the truth is that no one could know anything about him. 

Harry loves more than anyone else on the planet, because he does not share those psychotic ideals, because instead of a slap he prefers a kiss, and instead of an insult he chooses something sweet to say. And that is exactly why he is alone, because everyone is equal, because he believes that the only person he was taught something different was himself.

He is wrong, of course, but it is not something he knows for sure.

He stands up when he has finished eating, washes his hands in the sink and takes the opportunity to wash the few dishes he has soiled. He stretches out, realizing that he is really tired, even though it has not been a really busy day, and goes to his room. 

He undresses until he is left in his underwear, gets into the bedspreads and as soon as his head touches the pillow he falls asleep, not being aware of the space that is always left in his bed.

\---

Harry wakes up a minute before his alarm goes off. 

His nose is clearer than the day before, but he is sure that as soon as he steps out into the cold of London he will be a mess again. He stands up, meditates on the fact that the ground is too cold for his feet and that the water has to be in the same condition.

He does not feel like going through that martyrdom, so he stands up and walks to the bathroom, does not take a shower, but rather cleans the essential parts of his body and brushes his teeth after washing his face. 

He leaves the bathroom drying himself with a towel and gets dressed, taking especially his new sweater. It looks wonderful when he looks in the mirror, even better than the one he replaced, and he feels satisfied with his appearance. He goes to the kitchen for some juice and decides not to eat breakfast this time because he prefers to leave it for dinner.

Today he has a shift until four o'clock and has no further activity or anything like that, which is a relief because he thinks he can take a nap as soon as he arrives.

He doesn't do what he usually does, he doesn't look out the window as the city runs, he doesn't stay to hear how the neighbors upstairs love each other out loud as if they were on the cusp of the purest desire, and he doesn't wait for Ed to come out and say good morning to him as he does every morning. 

He comes out of his apartment covered from head to toe, has put on a scarf and his sweater is bigger than usual, so he has half of his hands covered by the fabric. 

Harry feels comfortable as soon as he steps out into the cold London air, but his nose immediately gets congested, so he hides it behind the fabric of the scarf, and is ready to start walking, however, and as soon as he takes the first step, someone bumps into his side. 

It is fortunate that neither of them falls, although the alpha barely moves into position. He frowned slightly, and as he slid his eyes to his side, he realized that it was Louis, the omega from the day before, that he had helped. 

“Oi” He suddenly exclaims the blue-eyed one as soon as he falls into the realization of exactly who he has stumbled upon. He wrinkles his nose a bit with a bright smile. “It's you, wow, what a habit of mine to bump into you. Hello, Harry.”

Harry nods, wants to laugh because the surprise the omega gives off is so fake that you can see it a mile away. Now, Harry doesn't know if you bumped into him on purpose, but that's something he prefers not to ask.

“Hello, Omega," he says back, calmly. 

“Well, it's kinda opportune, lots of casualties, isn't it” He says with a little laugh, almost nervously. “Well, I brought your sweater with me in case I saw you again, and if it happened so, here you go. I washed and ironed it, thank you very much for lending it to me yesterday.”

Harry looks at it while he talks, he is so talkative and does it so fast that his words get tangled up, I wish Harry could admit that he finds it cute, but far from it, he finds it clumsy. He sees him take his coat out of that backpack he has hanging from his shoulders, and when he's finished patting it down he spreads it out.

The alpha is a little bit scowling because Louis is again in the open, so he denies it.

“No”

The boy seems confused.

“No?” he is trying to understand.

“Put it on. It's very cold today too and you don't have anything to wear.”

“Ah” Louis shrugs his shoulders, playing down the issue. “It's nothing, I get along with the cold, but…” Leave the words in the air when Harry sneezes and smiles. “But apparently you don't. Bless you”.

“Thank you. I have a cold.”

“I see.”

“The sweater, wear it. Keep it” He insists, and take the opportunity to look at the clock on your phone while you're at it.

When he looks up at Louis again, he finds it slightly red, and rubs the fabric of the coat with his fingers. Harry notices because he is very thorough in his observation and it is quite clear to him that the omega is blushing from the gift he has given it. 

He sighs silently, believing that he is misinterpreting it. It's not that he wants to give him a gift because he thinks it's special, he doesn't even know it, it's just that he thinks it's too small and that body can't handle a temperature like the one they're experiencing now.

Simple as that, and he knows it's dumb as anything, but he can't help it.

“Thank you” Louis says finally.

Harry thinks he's going to put his sweater on, but he doesn't, he puts it back in his backpack. 

“It's nothing.”

Louis nods. A silence is created, one of the two has to leave, Harry prefers to be the first so he takes a step, but the omega stops him.

“Did you have breakfast yet?”

“No.”

“Did you... Would you like to go to breakfast? My treat, to, you know thank you for helping me yesterday and for the sweater.”

Harry doesn't know what to think except that he can't have breakfast with him because he has to work, and because he doesn't really feel like sharing space with someone else. He has enough on his plate with the few acquaintances he has, and with the intermittent greetings between him and Ed.

He doesn't want to, he doesn't want to simply relate to someone else because it's too complicated. So he refuses.

“Now I can't, I have to work.”

The omega's lips frown at Harry's sight, turn white under pressure and regain their color as soon as he sets them free. Interesting. 

Harry manages to capture the disappointment in his eyes and the way he clears his throat before he speaks is a clear sign of discomfort, embarrassment even, and suddenly he feels bad for him. 

And now, in a way, he wants to fix it.

“But you could come to where I work. It's a cafeteria, you can have breakfast there if you want and I'll keep you company. Or whatever you prefer.”

It's funny the way the boy's eyes light up when you hear him say that, but his change of expression is quick, turning into a frown next to a negative with his head.

“I can't go far, I have to go to work too." Harry nods and since he doesn't ask him what his job is, Louis adds. “I work in the house where you accompanied me, I'm something like a housekeeper and that.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah, well, that's cool, you know? At least I'm not naked.”

And the comment isn't funny at all, but Louis laughs softly as if it's the joke of the year and Harry doesn't understand, and he's late. So he decides to forget about that bad moment he's sincerely putting him through and excuses himself.

“I have to go. Goodbye, Louis.”

And it is something simple and unpromising, but Harry raises his arm and in a kind of slow motion sees the eyes of the omega open in impression, perhaps fear, and the alpha just rests his hand on Louis' head. 

He gives him a small, tiny caress in the hair, silky between his fingers and that causes an exorbitant blush on the cheeks of the little one, whose shoulders have fallen off and he has closed his eyes.

“Goodbye, Harry” He almost whispers.

And finally he takes the step on the asphalt, dodging people, completely ignoring the murmur in the voice of the omega and how beautiful his name can be heard coming from his lips.

Harry sneezes and suddenly hears his name. 

He turns and looks at Louis.

“Could you tell me where you work?”

Yes, you can tell him, the point is, it's not sure he wants to do it.

“Turnshop. Four blocks and a street on the left, my shift ends at four o'clock.”

And Harry doesn't know why he added that information, because he doesn't want to be searched.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry still thinks about the expression Louis had when he raised his hand. It was strange, because he's sure that the Omega thought that he would hit him, that he would use with him the traditional show of appreciation; a blow on the shoulder or on the head, right in the temple section.

And he can't get it out of his head. In fact, during his whole shift he keeps thinking about it and it disturbs him, because he would not be able to hit anyone, least of all a boy that he barely knows from the day before and who, basically, does not consider himself as a kind of knowledge because he only knows his name and who works in a very nice house as a kind of housekeeper, and also who has a heavy and uncomfortable sense of humour.

And already, Harry doesn't know anything else and that's fine.

What he doesn't consider to be fine is the feeling he gets when he closes his hand on the omega. He still feels the softness of his hair, silky and tender on his skin, he thinks about it, even if it's only for two seconds, in which he compares the softness of his hair with the possibility of it being the same on his skin.

At first sight Harry has noticed her smooth and sweet and that eats him up, he should not have that kind of ideas, and even less with his head as busy as it is. 

Next week he has to do the warehouse inventory, as well as double shifts because Christmas is coming and he doesn't get any days off, and he doesn't know if he feels like spending it with his father or alone in his flat with a moderate and not at all considerable good night dinner. 

Everything is very complicated, so he doesn't give it a thought. Her shift is almost over, so she focuses on attending to the few clients who arrive and leave almost immediately.

He likes the afternoons because it is not as busy as the mornings and evenings, people always have something to do more than go to the cafeteria for a drink before dinner, and that is a relief for his kind of social anxiety where he can't stand it when the place is too crowded and people talk too much. 

He rests his chin on his hand and looks around a bit. His partner, Maddy, a large, dark eyed beta, is on her break, Harry took it about two hours ago, so he doesn't feel as exhausted as she does. He takes a look at his watch, he's only got two minutes left, and he figures it won't hurt him to get his belongings, ready to leave as soon as it's four o'clock.

Luckily for him, Louis has not shown up as he thought he would because he asked for her address, so he is very relieved not to have to deal with those blue eyes twice in one day.

At one point he wishes he wouldn't meet him the next day, because he couldn't take another hit on his chest or side like he's been doing. He still has a cold and somehow his body hurts a little more than usual and Louis is no help at all.

One minute later, Harry is singing glory, he goes into the staff room and looks for his jumper. He wraps himself in his scarf and fixes his hair, which is already growing longer than it should and thinks for a second that he should leave it like that for Christmas, or even New Year's Eve for a change. 

Once he has his things and is ready it's four o'clock, he leaves the room and stops in his tracks when he sees Louis standing at the door. He goes alone and bites his lips, his hands are hidden in the jumper that used to belong to him and his cheeks are so red that Harry thinks... adorable.

He sighs, he has no other choice.

He walks towards the omega, who smiles as soon as he spots it and takes one or two steps forward to approach Harry as soon as possible. The alpha thinks the boy is extremely strange, and causes him to laugh internally, trying to pull the corners of his mouth, but he doesn't manage to do so.

“Hello, Harold” He greets him, Harry frowning at him calling him that.

“I'm Harry, not Harold.”

“Oh... Sorry, I thought Harry was short for Harold. I thought you were Harold Styles... I don't know, I'm sorry.”

What a fool; think Harry and deny playing it down. It's not the first time that's happened, but it's still a bit annoying.

“So” Louis interrupts the silence and swings on his legs. They are still standing in the entrance and are blessedly close to each other, so much so that Harry can smell the boy's scent and still doesn't know what it is. “Is this where you work?”

“Yes.“

Louis nods, takes a look at him. “Were you leaving?”

“Yes.“

“I came at a bad time then.”

Harry tilts his head, what a strange conversation they are having.

“Why do you say that?”

“I'm sure you've got something to do now so we can't have lunch or anything to return the favour of helping me. I don't know, my boss came in early and said I could go, so I took advantage, but I didn't remember you telling me when your shift was over.”

Too many explanations and that holy blush on the cheeks. 

Harry suddenly feels weak and sneezes, and coughs right after that and sneezes again. He excuses himself, Louis seems surprised by the way the flu has him and Harry looks at how his eyes shine. 

Apparently something has occurred to him and the alpha confirms it as soon as he speaks.

“Let me take care of you.”

“What?” Harry's in a fussy mood, his nose is completely stuffed up and he needs something warm, like tea or soup, or whatever.”

Louis nods effusively, almost excited by his idea.

“Yes, take care of yourself. I know how to do it, it's more my job, I take care of others. Let me do it for you, please. You can come to my house, I can make you soup and” He interrupts himself to extend his hand and place it on the forehead of the alpha, Harry shivers because his skin is frozen. Louis takes up the prayer again. “You have a fever, I can help bring it down. You will feel much better, really.”

He still has his hand on his forehead and it's funny because he has had to stand up a little on the tips of his feet to reach it. He's tiny, Harry likes that height, but not so much the proposal he makes to him. 

He doesn't need an Omega to look after him, he has learned to stand on his own two feet because he doesn't know what other people can do to him with their strange thoughts of love and good treatment, or maybe it's Harry with the crazy thoughts.

Anyway, he doesn't like it and that's it, so he refuses.

“No need, thank you.”

“Oh, come on, Harry. Let me do it, you have your eyes back from how sick you are. I'm a registered nurse, I know how to do these things, let me do it for you.”

Harry doesn't like your insistence.

“No” Repeat, that should be enough.

And apparently it is because Louis puts his head down and takes a step back. Now he looks like a wounded puppy all of a sudden and Harry is annoyed because it makes him change his mind. 

Maybe it is not such a bad idea to take care of him, maybe he will do a good job and finally leave him alone. Good heavens, Harry just wants to go home and lie down.

“Okay. Okay. You can look after me.”

And Harry had never seen the living joy in a pair of blue eyes.

What a strange omega.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry thinks Louis looks like a five-year-old who has managed to play doctor with his father or something.

Since they left the cafeteria he has not stopped pulling on the sleeve of his new jumper and talking about how much he will take care of him and how good he will feel after he is treated. It's silly, a bit ridiculous, but Harry finds it funny at one point and likes to watch his jumper being pulled by the thin fingers of the omega.

He has a tattoo on them overcoat and the alpha finds it curious. He wants to ask what the number means, but doesn't get that far because he knows the answer is none of his business, so he keeps quiet and watches the road. According to Louis, his house is not so far away from the place, so he does not need a car, and when they cross the same street in Harry's flat, he is sure that the distance is not real.

They turn a corner, Louis is finally quiet and Harry does not stop coughing. The cold air has hit them and he feels his chest tightening painfully, it's already getting dark and that's exactly why it affects him so much.

He thinks that if he had not accepted he would be at home having a tea or something hot that would relax his airways and his feet would be covered with ridiculous and Christmas socks because he likes to wear clothes of the season, but unfortunately he is not doing any of those things that in his mind are heaven.

Harry is really coughing hard and walking at the same slow pace as that omega that has convinced him to do this.

Louis looks at him for a full minute, waiting for his attack to end and when it does, Harry clears his throat a little.

He apologises, and then wonders what the hell he's crying about. It's not his fault he's got a cold and he's taking in all the cold, night air of London that only makes it worse. “It's very cold.”

Obviously, he doesn't know why he said that, but now he has the blue eyes of the omega on him, and it's not something that makes him very comfortable. Harry has never been able to interpret the looks, so he thinks that any kind of thing could have been going on in Louis' mind and he doesn't like that very much. 

So for some reason he has found it more convenient to look for a comment and not think before letting it out, and now he is embarrassed. 

He wonders when they will arrive at his house and when he will stop looking at them.

“Yes” Answers Louis finally. “It's too cold, we're almost there. One more street and we'll be home.”

It's a relief. Harry coughs a little more and then Louis does this thing of unwrapping the scarf that hugs his neck and putting it around Harry, and the alpha is stunned because he didn't expect it, because Louis has really stopped him to give him his warm and smelly garment, and to arrange it so that it covers him better and he can feel less cold. 

He doesn't understand, the feeling that that action has caused him is overwhelming and he doesn't know what to think about it or even what to say. He won't say thank you because it's not something he's asked of him, and he won't take it off his neck because it's a favour, and besides, it smells exquisite, so Harry just keeps walking with Louis by his side and they don't say anything else along the way.

Finally they stop, Louis beckons him to come in first and Harry walks through the door into the small lobby, if you can call it that. 

The omega lives in a building almost the same as Harry's, the difference being that it looks more elegant, almost expensive, and that's good because apparently Louis does well in his job which does not involve being naked. They go up in the lift, there is some relaxing music that leaves Harry thinking that it is not as uncomfortable as he thought it would be, and when the doors finally open, it turns out that Louis lives on the sixth floor. 

Everything is silent, Harry watches and Louis opens the door with his keys, letting him in immediately when he succeeds.

“And this is where I live," says Louis, as if it weren't obvious.

The alpha sees the room, and he likes the slightly minimalist decoration. He takes a look at the kitchen through the available counter space and notices that there is a small corridor that leads to the entrance of the farewell rooms. It's quite nice, not too huge, but it's the place Harry would like to have, not to mention it has the smell of Louis in every blessed corner, as if the best scented candles had been lit.

Harry doesn't know why, but that relieves him.

“You have a very nice place," he says.

“Oh, thank you very much. Make yourself comfortable as I prepare dinner, the soup doesn't take long so…”

“Yes, thank you” He interrupts you, because he is not interested in the whole business of preparing a soup. 

He sees Louis nodding with a small mocking smile and disappearing through the kitchen. Harry does that thing of getting comfortable and removes the two scarves from his neck, the temperature in the place is warm, perfect actually and he wants so much to take off his shoes to stretch his toes, but he knows not to do those things, so he takes a seat and watches the rest of the place. 

He likes the way the dining room is, and the vase in the corner with dying lilies, the lamp hanging over the table, and the beautiful carpet at his feet. And she really wants to take off her shoes and feel it.

“I put the soup on and brought some hot chocolate because I happen to like tea too much and I don't have any more," says Louis as he enters the room.

Harry sees him carrying two nice Christmas cups and a smile tries to pull his corners. They don't succeed, of course, Harry is reluctant to accept the cup that the omega offers him.

He sits down next to it.

“It's very hot, I don't know if you want to wait for it to cool down a bit.”

“I like it hot," answers Harry, although it wasn't even a question.

The edge of the cup comes to his lips, the smelly smoke caresses his nose and he's about to take his first drink when Louis stops him.

“Wait! -Harry winces when he is frightened. “Wait, the cough syrup, let him look for it.”

The alpha frowns in confusion, and he can't believe it. He almost has a heart attack from the loud interruption, just barely, and spills all the chocolate on himself. 

He thinks he's such a strange omega, he really couldn't understand how it worked, he's not someone I've ever seen.

Louis returns almost immediately with a pot of syrup in one hand and a large spoon in the other, sits back down on the furniture and Harry leaves the cup on the coffee table in case he happens to scream again.

“It doesn't have the best taste in the world” He starts to say in a concentrated murmur. “It actually tastes like strawberry-flavoured rubbish, but it will stop your coughing and make your throat better too, it's very good for healing.”

And as he talks he pours the liquid into the spoon, it's thick and blood-coloured, and Harry isn't sure he wants to ingest it because it smells funny. However, he knows that he has to do it in order to get better. 

He grimaces as soon as it passes down his throat and grabs as fast as he can the cup of chocolate to drink from it and at least appease the awful taste a little. It's really like drinking rubbish with fake, rotten strawberries.

Louis laughs a little.

“For an alpha you're not very risk tolerant” He says and quotes the last word without stopping laughing. 

Harry frowned.

“I'm not like the other alphas.”

“By I'm not like the other alphas. I meant…” He squeezes his lips, leaving the words in the air, and shakes his head. “Well, nothing really, it was just a comment.”

“I don't think it was a good comment." He responds, because he really didn't like being compared to the average raw alpha who is abusive and insensitive.

Harry looks at the Omega's embarrassing expression and thinks he has exaggerated a bit, but then Louis does this thing of tapping his shoulder perhaps too hard and laughing uncomfortably.

“It was just a friendly comment.”

And no.

Just not.

Louis should not hit his shoulder like that, and he should not make fun of him like he has done, and he definitely cannot say that he is being friendly right after he has assaulted him. 

And it's not that it hurts him, the truth is that Louis' fist has felt like a pillow space bumping into his arm, but he just doesn't accept actions like that, because today it may be a soft blow, and tomorrow he may have scratches on his back, and it's not something he wants. 

Harry leaves the cup on the table, stands up, takes his things without paying attention to them and looks into the confused blue eyes of the omega.

“I ask you not to do that hitting my shoulder ever again, please” He asks you seriously. “I have to go, thanks for the chocolate, the syrup, the soup that is not ready yet and the invitation, very kind of you. Goodbye.”

He doesn't expect an answer, nor a goodbye, nor anything, he just holds his scarf and opens the door without bothering to look back. The cold air immediately hits him as soon as he leaves the building, and he rolls up his neck carelessly with the garment.

He realizes that he has a strange smell, which is definitely not his, but he doesn't care, he wants to get home and take off his shoes, clothes, lie down on his bed and maybe watch a movie until he falls asleep.

Whatever it is, he just wants to get away from the overwhelming Louis and what he's feeling.

He avoids bumping into people, his long legs take even longer steps and soon he is climbing the stairs of his own flat. He doesn't meet Ed because it's already too late and it's, in a way, a relief. 

He arrives at his flat, and the first thing he does after closing the door is to take off his shoes. He leaves them right there and as he walks into the room he strips off his clothes, and only then, right then, does he realize that the reason his scarf smells so strange is because it's not even his own.

It is Louis'.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry for a moment thinks that everything is a real joke, that destiny, the universe or whatever, is playing a very bad trick on him and that it's not fair to simply have the most ordinary, strange and confusing omega scarf in the world, because that means having to see it again to get it back, and Harry really is tired and sick and having dealt with Louis the last few days has been so much that he can't, he's not ready for those things.

He prefers not to think about it, he finishes putting on his sleeping clothes and gets into the bedspread. At least he doesn't cough anymore, although he still can't breathe through his nose, he turns on the TV with the remote control even though it's already very late and he has to go to work the next morning, and he keeps changing the channels.

It's all very boring, but suddenly, as if I were calling him, he looks away from the scarf. He has it rolled up next to him like some kind of rag, and it bothers him, he thinks he has to get up and go hang it on some hanger to get it back in good condition, but Harry suddenly feels so tired and sleepy.

He knows that the syrup has sleep effects, or so he imagines.

His eyes start to get heavy, he moves around looking for a better position and he doesn't have the strength to get up anymore, so he stands on his side, wraps the scarf between his fingers and so, but so unconsciously takes it to his nose. 

He inhales and falls asleep with the peculiar smell of the clumsy and strange omega.

•••

Harry wakes up before his alarm, ten minutes to be exact, and feels wonderful. His throat no longer hurts, the bad cough seems to have disappeared and his nose no longer has any signs of congestion. He can smell perfectly, in fact the only smell he can detect is that of the scarf around his neck. The alpha for some reason is comfortable with the smell, delighted rather, so on a pure whim he leaves his garment and gets out of bed.

He carries out his daily and morning activities ten minutes in advance, has a quiet breakfast and takes the opportunity to visit some of the magazines he has for decoration and has read a thousand times. He thinks of cutting out the images and making some sort of themed collages, or something like that in the afternoon.

He takes a shower, washes his hair at the risk of catching another cold, stands in front of the window while he is naked and watches as all of London, or what he can easily see from his window, works. He dresses himself, combs his hair, puts a jacket over the jumper he is wearing and wraps the scarf around his neck until the fabric touches his nose and the smell automatically rises.

Close your eyes.

He likes it.

It is sweet, but not in excess.

It is exotic.

Unique.

Fascinating.

And you still don't know what it is.

Nobody smells like that, except that omega.

He grabs his stuff and leaves his flat, Ed's not there because Harry still has a ten-minute head start and goes down the stairs. He leaves his building and the first thing he sees when he walks is how an alpha holds his partner's neck while he kisses him, and Harry can't stand it, seeing those thick fingers sinking into the sides of his neck stopping the blood flow is too much; he increases his pace. 

He crosses beside them, hears him call the little omega useless and Harry breathes, the smell of Louis reaches him.

And it calms him down.

Really his tense shoulders relax and his exaggerated frown softens. The couple is left behind, Harry continues to inhale on the way and feels sedated, confused. He has sudden needs that he can't assimilate at the moment and doesn't bother to do so. 

He arrives at work and sees Lizzy sighing with relief because, wow, the place is packed, and that's great. Harry doesn't waste any time, crosses behind the bar, keeps the scarf and begins to attend to the arriving clients. He works with the girl, sees a big bruise on the pale skin of her shoulder and feels sick, but the smell of Louis serves as an antidote and he manages to do everything without any problem.

He manages to attend to more than twenty people in an hour, Harry likes it because at least they are friendly, some less than others, and that's only because they don't know him, but they intend to.

Those flirtations make him feel nauseous.

It's eleven o'clock in the blink of an eye, one more hour and he can go to lunch. The truth is that he is not that hungry, but he needs to get away from everyone a little bit in order to clear his head. He finishes charging a couple of coffees, wishes the two betas with beautiful eyes and identical faces a happy rest of the day, and the entrance bell rings.

Harry looks up from the cash register and meets the owner with such blue eyes and smell.

And suddenly he feels a chill in the pit of his stomach.

Louis walks up to him, has a bright smile and his skin glows, attracting Harry's attention. He's peculiar, and very pretty, and suddenly the alpha remembers the "friendly" blow he's given him the day before and any sudden fascination with the look of the omega disappears.

“Welcome” Harry says hello out of courtesy, as he does to all the customers. “What would you like to order?”

“Hello, Harry.” He says, with a certain mocking tone of voice.

“Hello, Louis.”

“You have my scarf, Harry.”

And Louis keeps a mocking smile on his lips that reflects his words. For some reason it bothers Harry, it's as if he pretends he took it on purpose when it was just an accident.

Harry does not respond because suddenly he sees that Louis has his scarf on, and that calms him down, removes all traces of discomfort from his face and body and is surprising.

“And you have mine” He lets him know, as if it were some kind of phrase that deserves a touch from him.

He feels as if he has counterattacked him and is so childish that he feels pathetic, especially when Louis laughs softly.

“I do” He nods, although he ends up raising his shoulders. “I don't plan to give it back.”

“You don't?”

How unusual.

“No” Louis smiles.

And although Harry is pleased to see his eyes crinkle as he does so, he is outraged. Louis can't just go around keeping his clothes, Harry has them limited and if he lets himself be carried away in the end he will end up naked by an omega that is not even his own.

“And why not?”

“It has a very rich smell," he says, and suddenly he blushes as he looks down. “You smell very good.”

You smell very good.

Harry really decides to ignore the sudden shyness of the omega and its confession, because he feels exactly the same and it's not right. He doesn't know how to deal with things like that, he wasn't taught at all, or he can deal with Louis and really doesn't want him to like it, but he just feels almost the same as he used to feel with his old partner, only this time it's peculiar.

Different.

Is he really falling in love?

Harry wonders how long it takes for a person to fall in love. 

One second? 

Five minutes? 

Two hours? 

A day? 

A week? 

A lifetime?

He has no idea that all the answers are correct and decides to hold back, to repress any feelings by believing them to be wrong. He clears his throat.

“What are you going to order?” He questions wanting to change the subject.

Louis bites his mouth slightly.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

Yes.

“No. Something else?”

He doesn't even look at it, he can't, he doesn't want to.

He has rejected him without even thinking about it, and he questions with what guts Louis has asked him that, where he has seen an Omega inviting an Alpha to go out. It should be the other way around, but Louis has done it, and Harry doesn't want to see it because he has denied him so quickly and so unconsciously that it is... painful.

So he takes it back.

“I mean, yes. I would like to go out with you. Anything else?”

Harry is talking without thinking, or the smell of omega has already intoxicated him enough to drive him crazy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a brief author’s note where I apologize for being gone for too much. I still don’t get the rhythm and haven’t develop the habit of being here in ao3 yet because I just spend too much time in wattpad since I’m really used to it. So yeah, trying to get used to be here too.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this update if you’re still here and I really hope you like as well. I’m going to do my best to update more often since this fic is completed and it doesn’t really have a lot of chapters like my other fanfic here. So that’s it, once again sorry for making you wait for so long and hope you have a wonderful day

Harry wakes up like any other day with the help of his alarm. With consciousness at full length and its five active senses, he manages to hear the rain blows against the window glass and feels slightly strange, not because the weather finds how it is, but usually at that time he's often quite gone.

It's the least thing, he puts his feet covered in his Christmas and ridiculous socks on the floor and stretches, thinks it's another morning, except he has a date for breakfast with Louis.

He still doesn't think he's accepted of his own will, at first he said no, and then he's changed so quickly that it's a little disturbing in the end. He's finished agreeing with the omega a place that he says is nice, and he's using the excuse that his boss would give him the morning off because he has to take his daughter to the doctor and a couple of other things Harry hasn't bothered to listen because he doesn't care about it and Louis talks too much.

Although in a way and secretly, he likes to see him chat, move his lips, and it's strange.

Harry is.

He stands up, he doesn't go to the kitchen like he usually does to make his breakfast, but he walks straight into the bathroom to take a quick shower because today it's especially too cold. Take what he needs, he gets in the bathroom and gets to scream a little when the ice water falls into his body.

He ends up singing a song any one that is known by heart to distract himself from the fact that he's freezing, and he feels nice in his loneliness.

Culm his bathroom, he comes out with a towel hanging from his hips and several drops still shine on his shoulders, walks to the window as usual and observes. Everyone carries umbrellas except those who have been caught by the rain and now find themselves soaked without much to avoid it.

Harry feels sorry for them, he even wants to offer to take everyone with his umbrella wherever they're headed, but turns out to be simply impossible and dumb. Decides that it's time to get dressed, he hasn't checked the time so he doesn't know how much time to advantage or disadvantage he has in his favor, but that stops caring at the time when something happens.

He has to reload from the corner of the window and hold his chest. Breathe, or at least that's what he tries when he suddenly suffocated, drowned.

Looks everywhere, things move and he comes to believe that sugar has dropped or pressure rising, but then the skin is rigged and a chill runs through the spinal cord from the end to the end; it panics.

He takes two long strides breathing through his mouth, started sweating his neck and blinking several times so he can focus. He has a nice calendar hanging from the wall near the door and checks it thoroughly, starts to do counts with his own fingers so he doesn't get wrong and oh, he knows.

It's been exactly six months and just as his heat has come, just that day he has to date an omega. He can't, in fact, he can't leave his house for the next 24 hours until he's done and Harry really doesn't know how he's gonna deal with this just today.

He sits in bed, still keeps the towel, but he's sure he won't for the soon, the sweat drops now run on his back and burns, touches his forehead and it's too hot, suffocated, and hard.

Very much.

He makes a grin because it even hurts, he tries to breathe and calm down. He looks for his phone on the nightstand, his hands shake a little bit and bite his lips so hard because he doesn't want to grunt on the line. Hemarks Lizzy, who answers quickly for his relief and has to ask her to cover it all the time, that he’s having a few difficulties at the time, and she accepts without protesting or asking anything else.

Harry thinks it's because she can tell in his voice that he's about to explode. He thanks her, he doesn't expect an answer and hangs up.

He tries to breathe again, but when he opens his eyes, he sees black spots and needs to touch himself, a lot. So, a little embarrassed of himself because he never liked to have to spend his rut alone, removes the towel from his body by leaving it on the floor and wrapped with one hand.

Gasps, breathes shaking, squeeze his flesh slightly to feel some artificial narrowing and begin. It's soft at the beginning, but as his hand goes from top to bottom, he has to hold off the sheets coming to neglect them and increase the rhythm, and soon it's giving little bounces on the mattress by the hip movements hemakes as it releases a number of complaints, almost inaudible grunts and grunts that are almost deafening to itself.

His arm is tired by the extreme speed he exercises in itself, presses his sensitive, hot, and for now a little soaked and wants to stop because he doesn't give him more limb, but he can't, he just needs to end.

Harry closes his eyes tightly and as soon as darkness invades it in his mind, there's an image. It's someone, perhaps known, blue eyes, beautiful smile, red cheeks, and he hears his name come off those lips and ends, right there.

His knot grows in his hand, it hurts and it has to loose, breathe while he runs, but he still doesn't open his eyes, keeps the omega in his mind and when he regains his sanity, he freaks out, almost screams and looks everywhere like he's done something really bad and gets caught in the act.

He drops the sheets by letting them wrinkled in more than no power, and a little spotted, no more than their thighs, but it's the least. He bites inside his mouth and doesn't wonder why he's thinking about Louis, he doesn't want to know, he doesn't have time, he knows that as soon as his knot goes down he'll feel needs he doesn't know if his arm is exhausted, he can beg, and he wants to cry, a lot.

But he doesn't, but he does create desperate faces in his attractive, reddened face. He gives him a brush with his eyes at his room and focuses on the scarf hanging from the door of his closet, the omega.

He gets anxious, stops and barefoot feet is gonna look for it just to get back to bed.

Decides to lie down this time for more comfort, and wraps the cloth around the neck. Inhale, he has to close his eyes when the smell causes him to spasm.

One hand presses one end of the scarf and the other strokes the burning skin of his chest, straight to his pelvis, where two fingers are given in the bone that sticks out and it's inevitable to moan when he caresses himself.

This time he doesn't take the delicacy to explore his own skin, it moves fast and once he pushes his hips by creating the simulation of a penetration. He keeps the scarf against his nose and lets his mind recreate whatever it takes to him.

He sees those blue eyes again, that laugh, his name being pronounced and it feels to melt. Harry really thinks he's sinking into the mattress with every touch that gives himself at high speed. He squeezes his teeth, closes his eyes tightly and feels the feeling in his stomach that causes him some kind of relief and unrest at the same time. Ends up again getting dirty, the knot hurting a little more than the previous time, and only then is it allowed to breathe deeply and very nicely the smell of Louis.

Oh, Louis.

He stood him up.

The omega must be really disappointed, but it's not Harry's fault. He didn't know his rut was gonna come like this.

Sighs, he has minutes to calm down the swelling down, and his arm and lungs appreciate it. Closes his eyes wanting to fall asleep from the tiredness, but suddenly the bell in his apartment rings.

Frunce his brow, look at the door, he plans to stand there and make him pretend whoever's out there who's not home, but it rings again and again faster, until he gets it out of his mind.

He gets up grumpy, picks up the towel from the floor and ties it up on his hip to cover his nudity and he's going to open. He regrets the moment he opens the door because Louis is right in front of it, he has a frown that makes brands on his forehead and those eyes are red and swollen.

Harry knows he cried, made him cry and now he shows up at his house.

“Louis”, that's all he gets to say.

He hides behind the door and bites inside the cheeks, Louis stares him in the eye and sips his nose before he talks with his really famous voice.

“You didn't go to our date” He says in an accusatory gesture.

Harry closes his eyes, feels pain to hear it, but honestly it hurts more what's growing against the towel cloth.

“You stood me up”, He insists, but he doesn't really look so angry, or screwed up, but now he seems to be a little sedated, too quiet.

Harry swallows saliva, his throat is so dry that it even makes it difficult, and curves his toes.

“How...? How did you find my flat?” Question with his voice a shaky one.

“A neighbor told me, Ed, I think…” Tilts his head. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

Tries to close the door, but Louis puts his foot in the way.

“You're in heat”, he says and then he's so low.

“No. Please go.”

“Alpha... May I help you?”

And Harry's weak, at the very moment, his legs are so shaking at the door and looks at Louis. He realizes he has too much clothes on him and his hair is really messy, and has very blush cheeks and, uh, it's so beautiful, beautiful. Harry breathes, it's not a good idea when the omega smells fills his nostrils, the scarf is now nothing compared to what Louis possesses and he can't, just can't.

Opens the door.

He doesn't know how he has sanity to tell him to come in. Louis obeys, his eyes travel straight everywhere and Harry has already dropped the towel while lying on the door, leans his head against the wood, leans back and shivers when he hears the omega moaning quietly.

It's a peculiar sound, Harry can't describe it, but it causes an internal burn that creates his alpha to be burning inside his chest.

Breathes.

“Alpha” says Louis.

This time his voice is velvet in his ears, raises his hand, needs a second, he's dizzy, needy, and his scent doesn't make him feel any better.

He needs this.

“I apologize” He says suddenly.

The omega's face is confused, but it changes the second Harry's approach, holds his face, just on the side of his neck and kisses him, and Louis is surprised because he's not strong, probably hoped for a brutality worthy of an alpha the size of Harry, but his mouth moves slow, deep, addictive and better, so many times better that Louis has to hold on to his shoulders because his legs don't give him any more.

Feel the hot skin against his fingers and approaches him, hugs him with one arm around his neck and Harry sinks his skin a little bit, and the omega thinks it's amazing he's not violating him.

It's not what he expected.

It's amazing.

Harry, in a cloud of ecstasy, he walks blind with the omega still against his chest, straight to his room. He takes his first garment off and he'd like to laugh if he wasn't so desperate when he takes away the other four garments leaving his torso naked.

He leaves him on the bed, watches him so thoroughly that Louis has to close his eyes, and he waits any blow, any insult, something he doesn't want but he'd accept because, that's how it should be.

"How beautiful you are”, Harry whispers, is more for himself, hopes Louis hasn't heard it.

But he has, and he's so stunned, he can't move an inch of his body. That, and the house has such a high temperature that his fingers are starting to hurt.

The alpha caresses his collarbone with the tip of the yolks, and with the other hand he takes care of getting rid of his pants. He knows he's not doing the natural affection samples, that at any time Louis can stand up and leave because he's not doing things the way he should, but he hates them, all that, and he can't just put his hands on that porcelain doll body to mark it.

Harry's not able to think about it, so when he takes his garment back, he's surprised when he sees the moisture in the omega's underwear, and he's so impressed, but at the same time flattered that he forgets a minute of the pain he suffers in his hardened and a little dripping crotch.

Louis can't believe how delicate Harry's dealing with.

“Turn around, please” asks the alpha in a snore whisper.

He passes a hand through his chin while the omega moves in the bed, pants out loud when he's left with his chest on the quilt and his butt a little flat.

He comes over, grabs the edges of his underwear and without further delay pulls it, and it's so pretty, every corner, even the way he's just lying there waiting for him, makes Harry want to get lost.

He wants to take time to analyze the omega, feel it, but his hand goes out of inertia to the crotch and it's already caressing, and it's not fair to Louis, who looks at the movement with his lips in the aqueous, and the face a little bit red, beautiful. So, since Harry wants it to be mutual and he's kind of desperate, he decides to sink a finger into the omega entrance.

Closes his eyes, feels the narrow, the warmth, it's divine, he doesn't have time.

He moves slowly, graduating the speed as it curses Louis to move hips, has not stopped the hand that pleases him and introduces a second finger, expanding, preparing him to receive it. He hears him whining suddenly, he's ripping his skin and needs to recharge himself.

He forces himself to leave his own touch and leans on the mattress on Louis. Kisses his shoulder, the corner of the chin, the cheek, bites his sweet meat and spreads it a little more with a third finger.

“Are you okay?" He askes.

Louis pans. Very high. Impressed.

Nods avidly.

“Please.”

“Beautiful.”

“What?”

Harry doesn't respond, sighs, departs from Louis and does not delay sink into it. Slowly, hold his tardy hips and push him until he's inside. Try to breathe, open his mouth for breaths, but all he gets is to let go of a moan and put his head back.

Oh, my God.

Holy shit.

He can't stand still, he starts moving, making his way over and over again, surprised how well he feels, the good work the omega is doing when he gets it in that comfortable, so good. Harry really can't think and it's too much, it's like all the burning he's ever felt was being moved to the Omega's body.

Harry opens his eyes, meets Louis, and he has to bite his mouth by the spasms he receives and the precious boy looks at him from down there, below his long eyelashes and eyelashes with his lips open and hugging the pillow tightly.

Harry's not rough, but he moves fast. They both wear it splendid, especially the one with blue eyes that enjoys those soft moments in fear that Harry will do what everyone else does. And then he thinks it's gonna happen when the alpha raises his hand and Louis shakes at that moment, those he thinks it's gonna happen, that he'll really put his hand on him and paint his skin.

Turns out he's so wrong when he realizes Harry just wants to pull his hair off his face.

He's relieved.

Harry makes a hips move and hits a key point, Louis whines out loud, the alpha holds him and beats him again, and he does it over and over again because he likes the sound he reproduces, and he knows it doesn't hurt, which feels pleasure, he perceives it in his chest as if it were his own and he doesn't understand it and he doesn't care to understand it.

“Alpha” whimpers.

Louis trembles, shakes, seems to break into his arms and Harry manages to spot wet spots on the pillow he embraces. He leans over him, kisses him, deep as he caresses his tongue and swallows the melody that he expels for movements. He's close, he sinks his fingers into his skin and grunts.

He runs, plugs his back even, with his eyes closed tightly and unloaded in it.

The knot grows.

They're breathing.

Harry knotted Louis.

There's still more than 15 hours of rut left.


End file.
